


DARE

by Jwink85



Category: South Park
Genre: Dance Music, Dancing, Dress Up, Drug Use, Fluff, LMAO, M/M, Smut, i'm probably crazy, please, seriously you guys what the fuck even is this?, somebody help me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-28
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2019-07-03 14:21:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15820659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jwink85/pseuds/Jwink85
Summary: I can't even begin to unpack this one, so I'll just break it down to its basic components: Kyle, Cartman, dressing up, drug use, dancing, screwing. There, you satisfied?





	DARE

**Author's Note:**

> You guys, I actually really apologize for this one. I honestly have no fucking clue where the hell it came from, so don't read it and then leave me pissy comments because I totally warned you. However, if you end up enjoying it then by all means, leave me tons of lovely, lovely comments, lmao. Or, hell, if you want to leave a snarky comment questioning the quality of the writing I suppose that's okay, too; just don't bitch at me about the subject matter bc I TOLD YOU. xD
> 
> Also, this was heavily inspired by this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uAOR6ib95kQ
> 
> That is literally the cutest music video I've ever seen, and I could totally see Kyle dancing around Cartman's giant head in his closet, couldn't you? No? Sorry, I'm nuts. :D

"Fuck me bloody," I whispered, and I couldn't believe the words that were pouring out of my lips.

I'd climbed out of my window at a quarter after one, when I was already three sheets to the wind, and somehow I had ended up here. I looked around and I could see the familiar posters, smell the same odor, and there was Cartman watching me, but during times like this he was always Eric. My Eric. His mouth was parted and the moonlight was filling up his eyes, and I could feel my mouth starting to water to see the desire there. Christ, I could fucking feel it.

No one knew but I'd been climbing through his window almost every week for months. Whenever Stan had turned me away or just pretended I didn't exist, I'd chug wine after the sun went down and then I'd find myself escaping through the window and making my way over to Cartman's once my feet hit the pavement. The shadows would spread out behind me as I ran and when I made it to his house I'd shimmy up the oak tree right outside his window; once there I'd knock at the glass three times because it was our secret signal. Cartman would open up the window and once I climbed inside he'd be my Eric, and I would beg him for everything he could give.

The first time it happened it had been completely by accident. I had been out with Stan and I thought that something might happen, though I couldn't say why. There'd been a shift in the atmosphere, in the way he'd looked at me, and I thought he'd actually kiss me that night. But before I could try he was looking at his phone and Wendy was calling him away, and he was answering, leaving me behind. My heart had been obliterated, and as I watched him walk away I had had to scramble for an answer, for a way out of my misery. I'd walked the streets, and before I knew it I had found myself outside of Cartman's house, though I'd been too afraid and upset to approach the front door.

Rather, I'd circled around his home and stopped under his window, and I could see that it was illuminated against the chill of the night. I'd contemplated the tree running parallel to his house, and before I could really think things through I was climbing it, and suddenly I was at the top and tapping at his window; three times, and that was before it had even become the signal. Cartman had answered after a moment, his face surprised and angry at being disturbed so suddenly, but when he saw it was me he had smiled slowly; a smile that filled me with dread and interest at the same time.

He let me in and I was sitting on the floor, curled up and holding back tears, but Cartman was tender, surprisingly so.

"I think I can help," he'd said, and he'd gone to a dresser drawer. He'd pulled out something and come back to me, holding it behind his back. "This should help you feel better, but if I give it to you, you have to do something for me. Is that fair?"

I had eyed him suspiciously, and I was starting to forget why I was upset.

"That depends. What is it, and what do you want me to do?"

He'd pulled his hand from behind his back and opened it; a single blue pill rested on his palm.

"It's ecstasy, and I want you to take it, and then dance for me."

I had just stared at him in disbelief. Even for Cartman that was a bizarre request.

"I mean, I'm not opposed to taking ecstasy, I guess. There's nothing wrong with experimenting, but I don't know if I can dance for you, Eric. That just seems a little out there." I eyed the pill with curiosity, Stan already fading from my mind.

Eric had smirked, and I could feel my irritation rising, which always seemed to happen when Eric was part of the equation.

"What?" I had snapped.

"You called me Eric."

"So?"

"Dude, you never call me Eric, so if you're willing to bend on that, why can't you bend on this?"

I thought a moment, but I still had reservations, naturally.

"What kind of dancing are you looking for here?"

He had shrugged.

"Nothing crazy. I want you to dance and look cute because it comes naturally to you."

"What, dancing?"

"No, being cute. So what do you say?"

For a moment I had hesitated but then I thought of Stan, and a savage rebellion reared its ugly head.

"Fine," I had said, snatching the pill from Eric's hand. "I'll fucking dance for you if that's what you want."

I swallowed it down and waited. Meanwhile, Eric had gone to his closet and started pulling out articles of clothing.

"Oh, and I want you to wear these," he'd said, laying pants and a shirt across his bed.

I had come closer to inspect them, and I can remember gasping to see what he wanted me to put on; a little baby doll t shirt and capris, both white, and both decidedly feminine.

"Eric, these are girl clothes. I can't put them on!" I had just stared at him. "Why the fuck do you even have these?"

"For Butters. He hardly ever lets me put them on him, and besides these would look so much better on you. Come on, you promised."

"I didn't fucking agree to dress in girl's clothes! I told you I would dance for you, and that's it!"

"What difference does it make what you're fucking wearing, Kyle? Just put them on!" He had sat down on the bed, leaning back. "Besides, you'd look hot as fuck. Doesn't that at least make you feel a little better about yourself?"

I had bitten my lip, still not sure. I eyed the clothes with distaste, but I had to admit I was curious. It wasn't like I hadn't been called cute in the past. In fact, Stan had told me on more than one occasion that I was prettier than any girl, even Wendy. I flushed at the memory and recklessly reached out to pick up the shirt. I turned to Eric.

"Are you going to at least turn around while I change?"

"Oh, sure, sure." Eric turned his back and I had found myself admiring his back, which was much leaner than it used to be. He'd slimmed down a lot since we hit senior year, and he was a far cry away from the boy that he'd been. Involuntarily, my mouth watered, and I wondered if the ecstasy was kicking in already.

I slipped the clothes on, and after I studied myself in Eric's floor length mirror I decided I looked more like a girl than ever, and I couldn't help blushing. The shirt didn't even cover my stomach, and it was more like a belly shirt than anything else, the sleeves so brief that they stopped at the slope of my shoulder, not reaching any further. The capris sat low on my hips and I could see the bones of my pelvis pushing through my skin, as well as my calves and ankles. I kicked off my socks and shoes and turned to inspect myself and as much as I hated to admit it, I looked pretty fucking cute.

"God, are you done yet?" Eric asked, impatient as always.

I tried to pull the shirt down, suddenly unbelievably shy.

"I-I guess."

Eric turned to study me and I blushed, the heat traveling down from my cheeks to settle across my neck and chest. He seemed completely satisfied though and he looked at me for several minutes, until I couldn't stand it any longer.

"So, are we going to do this or what?" I finally asked, trying to cover myself.

"Yeah, yeah. Sorry, you just look so fucking hot, I can't believe it. Butters has worn that exact outfit and he didn't even come close. Here," he reached out and turned on some music, and suddenly the room was filled with a slow, steady dance beat. The words were languid and didn't seem to be important; the beat clearly being the focus. Before I knew it, I felt my hips moving a little as he turned up the bass, which thumped like a giant heartbeat in his bedroom.

It was about this time that the ecstasy really started kicking in, and a hazy euphoria started washing over me, and I almost felt like I was getting lost in the music. I bounced up and down, not caring that the shirt rode up and exposed some of my chest. Eric just watched as I swayed in time to the beat, moving my hips in a sensuous circle when the music became especially slow and pulsed through his speakers like the rhythm of two people fucking. I could feel a thin sheen of sweat drip over my skin, and I could feel myself getting closer and closer to Eric but moving away when he tried to grab me, and I laughed because teasing him was just so much fun.

Eventually, the music started winding down and another song started to play, very similar to the first. I turned my back on Eric and leaned forward, shaking my ass in his direction and enjoying the way the low-slung pants sat on my hips and how the shirt was so tiny, barely covering anything. Thoughts of Stan were long gone as I danced for him, and before I knew it I was turning back toward Eric, but now I was right in front of him, a mere arm's length away.

Eric took this opportunity to place his hands on my hips and pull me close, the action aggressive but not painful. I willingly let him pull me onto his lap where I straddled him, and before I knew it I was kissing his mouth and getting lost in the flavor on his lips: bubble gum, toothpaste, and something I couldn't name; possibly whiskey. There was nothing personal about the way we kissed, it was purely carnal, and I gladly opened my lips to him and let him put his tongue in my mouth. God, I felt so hot and filled with a wild need that night, and all I wanted to do was get lost, no, drenched in his kisses.

His hands were closed around my back where they pushed up the flimsy t shirt, and quick as a thought he had pushed me onto my hands and knees on his bed, my face pressed into the blankets. I moaned and begged him for more kisses, to ease the thirst that had settled in my mouth, but he only responded by pulling down the capris and entering me with slick fingers, and I drooled all over his bed, my mouth wide open but no sound coming out. As the music continued to pulse he prepared me, but after a few moments I was begging to be fucked and he obliged, entering me roughly and throwing me forward on the bed, where my hands clenched around the sheets.

I kept begging for him to be rougher, god, so rough, and after awhile he groaned that he'd love to fuck me until I bled, and in my drug-addled state that idea sounded better than anything in the world, and I pushed back against him as he continued to drive into me. Eric's hands held my hips with a brutal possessiveness that made my mouth so moist that I had to swallow down some of the wetness, but still I met his thrusts as I felt the baby doll t shirt crawl up my back until I was exposed up to my shoulder blades. The only thing in the world was his hands, my naked back, the pulsing music, and the unbelievable, colorful euphoria screaming through me, until I heard Eric groan and then an exquisite heat filled me up, and I was flying, flying.

He gasped as we both came down, and his hand slid up my back to trail over one of my shoulder blades, making me shiver. The drug was still moving through me, and I lay against the blankets and everything felt alive and filled with burgeoning, overwhelming color. For a moment I was gone from that room and I was floating to a place where no one could touch me; not Stan, not Eric, no one, and it was beautiful how free I felt.

Afterward, we didn't look at one another as I changed back into my normal clothes and the high started to wear off, leaving me cranky and too fucking hot. I crawled back out of the window and climbed awkwardly down the tree, my nails biting into the bark and making me cringe when one folded back a little. I ran home in the moon-drenched streets and didn't stop until I collapsed in my bed, the feeling of Eric's come sliding down the back of one of my thighs. That was actually the first night I fell asleep and didn't dream of Stan, and even though I'd had to dress up and dance for Eric to reach that point, suddenly I didn't care.

Besides, you guys, I'm seriously not kidding when I say I looked so fucking cute in those clothes. I promise.

In fact, if you saw me in them, you'd want to fuck me until I bled too.


End file.
